No More Snow

Snow Bound Volume 5

By Julia P. Lynde

I ran. And ran. And ran. It took three days before I was in Arizona. I would have kept going, but I would have run out of money. Gas was expensive.

Self-deprecating Sarah and Scared Sarah took turns at the wheel. Scared Sarah just ran. Self-deprecating Sarah helped her run while screaming, "I'm so stupid!" over and over. Somehow throughout all of it, I managed to avoid doing anything too self-damaging.

I'd been so stupid to think I could keep her submissive. I slept in one morning and that's all it took. I knew better. I knew she'd be just like every other shrink. They all thought they knew so much more about what someone needed.

I didn't need that kind of help.

I just needed to learn to trust someone again.

I needed to learn I could be vulnerable and not be betrayed.

How stupid.

Angry Sarah and Vengeful Sarah both tried to make appearances, but I managed to shove both of them back into their holes. Competent Sarah made appearances only when I was so tired and needed to set up a campsite somewhere.

I bought a month's worth of food, using most of the rest of my money. I found a national forest, located a secluded area, and set up camp. I hid there for two weeks before Competent Sarah was able to wrest firm control away from Self-Deprecating Sarah. It was a Wednesday, late in the afternoon, shortly before sunset. I sat on the ground, staring at my arms.

The cuts would heal.

I hadn't done that in a very long time.

I cried.

I cried for the years of emotional healing, all out the window, judging by the evidence on my arms.

I cried for my future, a future I knew I'd spend alone.

I cried for Allison, the woman I still loved.

Tears streaming down my face, I watched the sunset, then crawled into my tent and curled up into a ball, crying quietly and wondering what I was going to do.

* * *

I fell asleep eventually. I woke in the morning, and Competent Sarah was still in control.

I got out my small first aid kit and applied anti-bacterial ointment to my arms. Then I went through all my supplies. I had food and cooking fuel for another two or three weeks. Water was low, but that wouldn't cost anything. I didn't have any jobs I'd completed but hadn't been paid for, and I was out of money.

"Right," I said. "Water, then find an internet connection and see if anyone needs a cover or two." I dressed with a long sleeve shirt to hide the cuts.

I packed everything up and stowed it all in the car. I started it and swore: a quarter tank of gas. I drove to the nearest town and found the local library. I got lucky. The town had a library and they had an open internet connection. I wouldn't have to go inside. I was sure I looked a total fright.

I checked my email, hoping someone would be asking for a book cover. Someone had. Six someone's, actually. I read each of the emails. Four of them I could do right there immediately, and they were for past clients who I knew would pay me immediately. Thank god!

The other two hadn't provided enough information. I emailed the first four and told them I was sorry for not getting back sooner but promising their covers within the next day. I wrote the other two, also apologizing, and asking for more information.

There were nine emails from Allison. I deleted them unread, one by one, but the last several all had the same subject. "Please at least tell me you're alive."

I carried on a silent debate with myself between completely forgiving her and making her suffer without knowing. I found myself reaching for her phone. I dialed star-sixty-seven then her number.

She answered on the second right. "Allison Crawford."

I didn't say anything right away.

"This is Allison," she said.

I still didn't say anything.

"Sarah? Oh god, Sarah, is this you?"

"I'm alive. Leave me alone." I hung up.

I cried. I missed her. Why did she have to ruin it?

The tears ran their course. I cleaned myself up then read through the book covers I'd been asked for.

Three of them wanted something sexy and were happy to use me as the model. The fourth was a fantasy novel. I could still use my image, but would need to spend more time on it, giving it an otherworldly, fairies and elves appearance.

I spent an hour going through my supply of photos, finding just the right base images. I was going to start editing them, but my computer's laptop started complaining about power.

I closed the laptop, slipped it in its bag, then looked at myself in the mirror. I wasn't too bad. I dug a brush out of the glove compartment and spent ten minutes attempting to tame my hair. Maybe it was time to cut it. But not a decision to make right then and there.

I achieved some semblance of an appearance that wouldn't completely frighten someone, the climbed out of the car, lugging my computer and camera after me. I slipped into the library and found a quiet corner with a wall outlet. No one bothered me.

It took me several hours but I managed to do all four book covers, the most time being spent on the fantasy novel. I mailed off watermarked copies to the respective authors, asking for approval.

Of the two others, one of the authors had written back, answering my questions. This would be an easy one, so I did it and mailed off a proof after only a half hour. The last hadn't responded.

There was an email from Allison. The subject said, "I'm sorry."

So was I. I deleted it.

After that I thought about the sorry state of my gas tank. I logged into my online banking and checked the balance. I was down to sixty-three dollars and twenty-two cents.

A pair of black slacks and boots appeared in front of me. I looked up and saw they were attached to a local police officer. I managed to avoid swearing.

"Miss," he said. "Are you lost?"

"No, officer," I said. "I haven't bothered anyone, but I'm going."

He crouched down in front of me. "I'm not rousting you," he said kindly. "Mrs. Simmons told me you've been here most of the day, and no one knows who you are."

"I'm sorry. If I was in the way, I'd have gone quietly if she'd just said something." I started packing everything up.

He reached out a hand and touched my arm. I flinched away and backup up against the wall.

"Oh hey!" he said. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I'm going. Is there a truck stop somewhere?"

"The kind with a shower?"

I looked away. I must have needed a shower badly. I nodded.

He gave me directions. "Ma'am, you're not in any trouble as far as I'm concerned. The library is open to everyone who needs it."

We stood up together. "Thank you," I told him. "You've been very kind." I edged past him, not turning my back on him. He followed me out to my truck, making me even more nervous. But he didn't bother me as I drove off.

I found the truck stop. I filled the car with gas and paid for a shower. I had fifteen dollars left when I was done. I filled my water jugs and drove back to my camp site.

* * *

Allison tightened the last knot binding my arms to my sides. She looked at me, smiling. "All mine now, Love," she said.  I was lying on my back, staring up at her, rocking back and forth in the bed, my legs spread slightly. I tried to say something, but she had gagged me.

Then her fingers slid down my side and went exploring my crotch. My legs parted further for her fingers. She wriggled, parting my lower lips, and her fingers found my clit. I was already wet for her.

I gasped and struggled with my bonds. I tried to tell her to let me go.

"You know this is what you want, Love," she said. "Struggling won't help you."

My body betrayed me. I felt my juices flowing. She slipped two fingers deep into my ready vagina and I gasped into the gag. She used the ball of her hand to rub against my clit while her fingers slid in and out of me.

It was then I realized we weren't alone. My mother was sitting in a chair, watching us and looking bored.

I started to come, screaming "Allison" into the gag.

That's when I woke up, still screaming her name.

I was wrapped tightly in my sleeping bag, and it was my own hand between my legs.

"Fucking dream," I said as the shudders subsided. I began to cry lightly for a few minutes then laughed. How literal. A dream about fucking. A fucking dream. I untangled myself from the sleeping bag, then rolled over and went back to sleep, thinking about Allison.

* * *

I drove back into town the next day. I went into the library and made a point of introducing myself to the librarian, Mrs. Simmons. She was a matronly woman who looked like she may have been around when the library was first built.

She offered me a library card and told me I was always welcome.

I checked my email. One client had renamed her book but said the artwork was otherwise perfect. The other clients were all happy. I still hadn't heard from the last one, the one I hadn't done work for yet. I made the title change and sent final copies to the five people who were satisfied.

* * *

I established new patterns. I moved around the national park every couple of days, picking out of the way spots and being sensitive to the undergrowth. And I visited the library two or three times a week.

Allison sent emails periodically. The subjects were things like "I'm sorry," and "Please call me." Or simply, "I love you."

I deleted them without reading them.

Ten days after my first library visit, the same police officer sat down at the table across from me. I looked up and my heart rate immediately jumped.

"Good morning, Sarah."

"I haven't done anything wrong."

"Yes you have," he said.

I stared around wildly, wondering if I could escape before he could catch me. He slid something across the table to me. It was a national parks sticker. "The sticker on your car is expired. I got you a new one."

I looked at him, then at the sticker, then back at him. "Why would you do that?" The passes were expensive.

"I ran your plates," he said.

"I'm not wanted for anything. I don't even have a traffic ticket."

"Sarah," he said gently. "I'm not harassing you. I'm trying to help you. Put that on your car."

I narrowed my eyes. "How did you know I needed one?"

"You're not the only one who uses the park," he said. "I saw your car out there over the weekend. I know you're camping out there."

I started to look around wildly. Scared Sarah was firmly taking control. I tried to shove her back down. My past experiences with anyone in a position of authority had never been good. Now this cop knew where I slept.

"Sarah," he said. "I'm one of the good guys. Take the sticker. It's good at all the national parks. Is there anything else you need?"

I shook my head. He slid a business card over to join the sticker. "That's my cell phone number. You can call it if you need anything." Then he stood up and backed away from my table slowly. Like you might from a scared animal.

As soon as he was gone, I packed everything up and ran to my car. I took the sticker. Later, I looked at his business card. His name was Kevin James. Officer Kevin James. I vowed to keep my distances from Officer James.

* * *

I couldn't move. My arms and legs were tied, and I couldn't move.

"Don't struggle," Allison said. "You can't escape. You don't want to escape."

"Let me go," I whimpered.

"You don't want me to let you go, Sarah," she whispered in my ear.

I woke up.

* * *

I had been in Arizona for a month. It was eight on a Tuesday evening in February. I stared at my cell phone, then punched some numbers.

The number rang three times before she answered.

"Hello?"

"Mom."

"Sarah." Her voice didn't hold any emotion.

"Hi."

Neither of us said anything for a moment before she asked me, "Where are you?"

"Arizona."

"Are you in trouble?" she asked.

"No. I'm fine."

"Do you need money? Why are you calling?" Her voice still held no emotion. No pleasure at hearing my voice. No pleasure at knowing I was alive. I hadn't talked to her in four years.

I pulled the phone from my ear and stared at it. Why was I calling my mother? I lifted the phone to my head again.

"I guess I don't know," I said. "I guess I was wondering how you were doing and thought you might care to know I was still alive. My mistake. I'm sorry for bothering you."

I hung up before she could respond.

Stupid. Why would she care now if she hadn't cared when it mattered?

* * *

I rebuilt my fragile finances. I'd found in the past that I could post on a variety of forums devoted to self-publishing authors, and I always got a little work out of it. Over the course of February and March, I did sixteen book covers. Normally it took me six months or longer to do that many. I turned down eight more for books that were sluttier than I cared for.

Every week or two, Officer James wandered through the library and would say "hello" to me. I think Mrs. Simmons was ratting me out. During one of his visits in late February, I slid an envelope to him.

"Thank you for the park sticker," I said.

He looked into the envelope. "You didn't have to pay me back. It was a gift."

"I don't like taking charity," I told him. "I appreciate you buying it for me. Thank you."

He frowned but slipped the envelope in his pocket.

* * *

On a Thursday afternoon late in March, Officer James sat down across the table from me at the library. I looked up at him.

"Hello, Sarah," he said.

"Officer James," I replied.

"Kevin," he said.

I looked at him for a moment. "Officer James," I said. "I don't date cops."

"I wasn't asking. But I did want to remind you your car tabs expire in June. If you are staying in Arizona after that, you may want to pick up Arizona plates. Let me know if you need help with that. Normally you either have them mailed to you or do them in person, but the nearest place in person is Flagstaff. I could have them mailed to the station for you."

I thought about it. I didn't know what I was doing next week, much less in June. "That's very kind of you," I told him. "If I need your help, I'll let you know."

He nodded and got up, but I stopped him. "Officer James, I was wondering. Is there a good camping supply store nearby?"

He sat back down. "The Walmart has some equipment."

"I didn't care for what I found. Is there somewhere better?"

"Flagstaff. It's a two hour drive."

I thought about it. I wanted a new stove, but I didn't want one badly enough to pay for four hours of gasoline for the car.

"Thank you. I guess it can wait."

He stared at me for a moment. "I was thinking about running down to Flagstaff on Saturday. You could ride along."

"You just made that up," I accused.

"Not the trip. Maybe the timing. I need new hiking shoes and want to visit a furniture store."

I looked at him. "Officer James, I have trust issues. Please don't take this personally, but I'm not getting into a car with you or anyone else."

He nodded. "I understand. Look, I'll swing by the library at nine on Saturday morning. If you change your mind, be here." He paused. "What were you hoping to buy?"

I told him about the camp stove.

"If you don't want to ride with me, I could pick one up for you. Call me at noon and we can discuss over the phone the models I find."

* * *

Saturday, precisely at noon, I was sitting in the library and called his cell.

"It's Sarah," I said when he answered.

"Hello, Sarah. Your timing is perfect. I'm walking around the store in the shoes I'm going to buy and looking at camp stoves."

We talked about my choices over the phone. I looked up the details on the internet. He gave me the prices, and together we narrowed my choices down.

"Thank you," I told him after he agreed to buy the one I wanted.

* * *

I received an email from Allison with a subject of, "Skiing Pictures". I started at it for a while before opening it. There was a brief note followed by several photos. "Emily and Jim were here for Valentine's Day," the note said. "It turns out bra size isn't the only size you share in common with Emily. Your ski boots fit her. Love, Allison."

All the photos were taken on the lake in front of Allison's cabin. The first was Allison smiling at the cabin. The caption read, "Thank you."  There was a photo of Allison with another woman. The caption was just, "Best Friends". Another with that woman and a man. They looked happy. There were a few snapshots of Allison and Emily skiing.

I stared at the first photo and cried quietly.

* * *

Allison looked down at me while tightening the bonds holding me to the bed. "This is what you want," she said. She began teasing me with a long feather.

"I can't do this, Allison," I told her.

"Yes, honey," she said. "You're ready."

I woke up.

When were these dreams going to end?

* * *

April came. I sent Allison a quick email. "Thank you for the photos. You're welcome."

I did my taxes online. I never did any withholding because I never made enough money to pay income taxes, but I still had to file the forms.

I also checked the bank balance. It was several hundred dollars higher than it should have been. I looked at the details and found direct deposit checks from Amazon in February and March.

"What the hell?"

I'd stopped watching the sales for "Breathing" two years ago, but I logged into Amazon. My book had started selling. There were orders both for the paperback version as well as electronic downloads. I reviewed the history and realized it started selling in early January, right after I'd first met Allison. There had been a big order for paperbacks, twenty-five copies, and that order had been replicated twice more. There were also patches of small orders of electronic and paperback copies.

Amazon wouldn't tell me who was buying my books, but I knew Allison was behind it.

I didn't want her charity.

* * *

In late April I had my most vivid dream.

I was naked again, lying on my back, tied to the bed. Allison was sitting beside me, looking at me. She was caressing me gently, her hands roaming up and down my skin. I shivered under her touch.

"I love you," I told her in my dream.

She bent down and kissed me while her hand slid between my legs. She began teasing my clit. I squirmed and shivered.

When she broke the kiss, I told her, "You hurt me."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I would never hurt you intentionally."

I woke up.

* * *

In the morning I packed my things and put everything in the car. I drove to the library in town.

"Hello, Mrs. Simmons," I said.

"Hello, Sarah," she said. "Would you like a cookie?"

"I'd love a cookie. Thank you." Mrs. Simmons had been feeding me cookies all winter.

"You look different today," she said as I ate my cookie.

"It's time for me to move on," I told her.

She looked at me sadly. "You could stay. You'd be safe here. Whoever you're running from won't find you here."

"No one is chasing me except my past," I told her. "I don't think I'd like Arizona in the summer."

"Back north then?"

I nodded.

I handed her a note. "Will you see that Officer James gets this?"

She took the note but said, "He's a good boy. You could do worse."

"I know," I agreed. "But if I were going to chase after someone, you're more likely a target than he is."

Her eyes grew wide. "Ohh. I wish I'd known that two months ago." We laughed together.

"You've been very kind, Mrs. Simmons. Thank you."

"We'll still be here if you need a place to hide again."

I reached over and hugged her. It was the first contact of any sort I'd had since I ran away from Allison.

* * *

I worked my way back to Minnesota. I spent a couple of days at the Grand Canyon. I drove up to Boulder in Colorado; the mountains were still buried in snow. I drove into Wyoming and to Yellowstone National Park. I spent three days camping and taking pictures.

Finally I turned east.

I drove to Minneapolis, arriving on a Wednesday afternoon. I drove into Edina and parked around the corner from my mother's house. I waited in my car for two hours, reading a book, waiting for her to come home.

She drove right past me parked in my car. I had expected her to come from the other direction. I only got a glimpse of her.

I thought about presenting myself at her door. Instead, I drove away.

That night I camped at the Knotty Hills Campground.

* * *

I dreamt of Allison that night. It was brief. "Come home to me," she said. "I love you."

I woke up. "You're being stupid, Sarah," I told myself. "Nothing good is going to come of this. Why are you torturing yourself?"

Thursday morning, I drove away. I drove all the way to Grand Marais on Lake Superior. I spent Thursday and Friday night there.

I couldn't stop thinking of Allison.

"Damn it!" I said, waking up Saturday morning from another dream about her.

I packed my things and drove back to the Knotty Hills Campground.

* * *

I rented a canoe from the campground. I put my unruly hair into a pony tail as best I could then tucked it all into the back of the hood, pulling it up over my head and partway over my face.

When I got the canoe into the water, I turned away from Allison's cabin. I had my camera with me in its waterproof container, which I tied to the canoe, just in case. It was a warm, sunny day, and I paddled slowly around the lake in a big, clockwise circle. Two hours later I found myself drifting past Allison's cabin.

She had guests.

A group of people were sitting in her grass, facing the lake. They were in comfortable poses, and it looked like they were meditating. My eyes searched for and found Allison.

She looked good. Really good. I stopped paddling and stared at her.

I don't know if she felt my gaze, or if it was just time to end the meditation, but her eyes opened and locked on me instantly. I turned away.

"Sarah?"

I started paddling away slowly.

"Sarah!"

I heard a commotion on the dock, then she was talking to someone. "I guess not, Emily."

I returned the canoe and hid in my tent the rest of the day.

What was I doing?

* * *

Sunday I went for a walk, carrying my camera, again with my hair buried in my hood. I walked along the road past Allison's cabin, taking pictures of budding trees, birds building a nest, and other signs of nature. I found a turtle crossing the road and took a bunch of photos, then picked him up and carried him the rest of the way across before a car could run over him.

Two cabins past Allison's I turned into someone's property. No one appeared to be home at either the cabin I had turned into or the one closer to Allison's. I started taking photographs. She was leading another meditation group. I used my longest lens and photographed her through the trees.

I found the woman from the photos Allison had sent, her friend Emily.

I stayed, watching them, taking photos. No one ever looked in my direction.

Eventually they all disappeared into the cabin. Shortly after, people started streaming out the back of the cabin carrying suit cases, duffle bags, and coolers. I watched while they loaded their cars.

They milled around for a while, saying their goodbyes. I watched three cars drive away. Then the garage door opened and I watched an unfamiliar car back up and turn around. I got a glimpse of Emily's husband behind the wheel. A few minutes after that, Allison's car backed out and I watched her drive away. I took photos of her tail lights.

I stared at the cabin, then began walking back to the camp grounds, taking pictures along the way. Halfway back, the battery in the camera died. The spare had died two days ago. I got to the camp grounds and packed all my stuff. I knew where there was a deserted cabin where I could get a wireless internet connection and charge my batteries with no on the wiser.

I drove out of the campground, turned left, and pulled into Allison's driveway. I pulled up in front of the garage, got out, and grabbed my computer and camera bag. I walked around the outside of the cabin and climbed onto her deck.

I stood there for a while. The last time I'd been here the snow had been several feet deep. It looked very different in the early spring. I set my gear down on the picnic table then took everything out. She had an outdoor plug next to the door. I moved the table and a bench close enough to reach the outlet and plugged everything in.

I left everything to charge and moved out into the grass. I sat down, closed my eyes, and concentrated on my breathing.

I got lost in my meditation.

* * *

It was quite some time later when I came back to myself. I wasn't alone. Allison was sitting in front of me, watching me. She was smiling.

"Welcome back," she said softly when I opened my eyes.

I stared at her. "I saw you drive away."

"Into town for groceries." She paused. "You weren't expecting me."

"I came to steal some power from you." I gestured my head back at the deck. "And leech some internet. I'm sorry."

Her expression fell for a moment, then steadied. "That was you yesterday in the canoe."

I nodded.

"Why did you paddle away?"

"You had clients." I paused. "And I didn't know if I was welcome."

"Oh honey," she said.

I looked away. "What are you doing with all the books?"

"My clients are buying them. And I think Emily has some clients buying them. And a few of them have been buying copies for friends. Word is getting around."

I looked at her. "How many have you bought?"

"Seventy-five. I have eight or ten left. I'll need to order more soon."

"Was this charity?"

"No. I don't confuse my professional and personal life." She paused. "Except once. I'm sorry."

We had an awkward pause. "I can't stop thinking about you," I told her. "And dreaming about you." I looked away.

"I'm so sorry, Sarah," she said. "I was completely wrong."

I looked back at her. "You were trying to help."

"I was still wrong."

I shrugged. "Yes, but I'm the queen of over-reacting."

We stared at each other for a while.

"Honey," she said. "Would you please push your hood back?

I smiled shyly, then pulled the sweatshirt off entirely then pulled my hair out of the pony tail and shook it loose. It sprang wild around my shoulders.

Allison smiled. "Thank you."

We sat there quietly, looking at each other. I wanted to throw myself into her arms, but I couldn't. I couldn't handle it if she rejected me.

"Are you staying?" she asked.

"I don't know," I said, looking away. "Will you answer some questions?"

"Yes."

"How many lovers have you had since I left?"

"None."

"Thought about having?"

"I go to sleep every night thinking about you, Sarah." She was smiling again.

"Am I welcome?"

"Yes."

"In your bed?"

"Yes."

I wasn't ready to touch her yet. I wasn't ready to have her touch me yet. But my heart was breaking, looking at her. So I looked away. "I called my mother."

"I bet she was happy to hear from you."

"Could have fooled me if she was," I said. "It ended up being a much briefer conversation than I was expecting."

She didn't say anything right away but waited until I looked back at her. "I'm not your mother, Sarah. I'm not your doctor. I'm not your therapist. I'm your friend. I'd like to be your lover and your partner. Please, are you staying?"

"Don't touch me yet," I told her. And then I started to cry, looking away. I was so tired of my eight disjoint personalities controlling my life. I was so tired of being afraid. I was so tired of running.

I looked around. This was what I wanted. This place on this lake with this woman.

I looked down at my arms. Her gaze followed mine. "I'm crazy, Allison," I told her.

"No you're not. You are hurting, but you're not crazy. Please stay with me."

I made a decision. I stood up.

"Oh honey!" She started to cry. "Please don't leave me again. I couldn't stand it."

I fished in the pocket of my jeans, pulled out my car key, and held it out to her.

She looked at it, then took it from me. "I don't understand."

I didn't say anything, but I turned around and began walking around the cabin. Allison scrambled to keep up with me. I left my computer and camera charging on her deck.

I walked up to my car and began crawling underneath it.

"Honey, what are you doing?"

"You'll see," I told her.

I found it, the little box I'd had bolted to the frame of the car where no one would see it. I reached up. It was difficult to open, but finally it slid open and I removed the spare car key I kept there in case I lost the other one. I slid out from under the car and climbed to my feet. I gave Allison the second key.

"I'm tired of running," I told her. "Hide those from me."

She stared at the keys for a moment, then looked into my face.

"I might run," I told her. "But I won't be able to go very far."

She launched herself at me, pulling me into the tightest embrace, then kissing me. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her back. She pressed me against my car, pressing herself against me, squeezing me with everything she had.

I squeezed back just as hard.

Then she pulled me into the cabin.

* * *

She locked the keys in her office somewhere. While she was doing that, I brought my things in from outside. When she came back out of her office, I asked her, "Will I find them?"

"No. They are in a locked filing cabinet, and under no circumstances will I give you the combination."

"Lock your own as well," I told her.

"I did."

We stared at each other. Neither of us knew what to do. She made a decision, as she walked over to me and started to sink to her knees in front of me.

"No," I said, catching her by the elbows. "Allison, will you take me to bed and make love to me?"

I didn't have to ask twice. She immediately pulled me into a kiss, her tongue entering my mouth without hesitation. I opened for her, sucking hungrily at her, tasting her greedily.

She had half my clothes off by the time we made it to the bedroom. The rest didn't take her long.

She pulled me gently to the bed and pulled me down, then pulled away and looked at me. "How aggressive do you want me to be?"

"I don't want to think," I told her. "Don't let me think about anything except what you're doing to me."

She shoved me back onto the pillows and climbed on top of me. She was still wearing most of her clothes, a fact I found terribly annoying. She pressed herself against me, kissing me deeply. When she broke the kiss, I told her, "I've missed you. Please take me, but please get rid of more of these clothes between us.

"No," she said. She grabbed my wrists and shoved them to the bed over my head, staring down at me.

I struggled for a moment.

"What is your word?" she asked me.

I stared up at her. "Octopus," I told her.

"Am I scaring you?"

"No, Allison. Please take me."

"Close your eyes," she said. "If you open them without permission, I will blindfold you."

I immediately closed my eyes and was rewarded with a toe-curling kiss.

"Octopus," she said.

My eyes snapped open. "What?"

"Close your eyes," she said. I closed them again. "Do you want me to tie you?"

"No," I said. "That would be too much. Please, I want to feel your skin. Please take off your clothes, then take me."

"All right, honey," she said. She rolled off me, and I listened while she removed her clothing. Then she was back on top of me, straddling me, and I felt her bare legs against mine. I reached for her.

She immediately grabbed my hands and shoved them forcibly to the pillows over my head. "You will obey me this time," she said firmly. "Won't you?"

"Yes, Allison," I told her.

She kissed me again, her tongue thrusting into my mouth, her hands still on my wrists over my head, and I felt my heart pounding in my chest.

Panic was just below the surface. I told it to get stuffed.

She broke the kiss and I opened my eyes.

"Close them!" she said. "Right now."

"I changed my mind."

"Oh honey," she said, her features falling.

"Tie me."

"What?"

"Do you love me?"

"Yes."

"Tie me, but do it slowly, and don't hurt me."

"I would never hurt you. Are you sure?"

"Tie me. Make them tight."

She crawled off me and rummaged through her closet, returning with an assortment of scarves. She sat down on the bed. "This is too much for you."

"Tie me."

I offered her my right wrist. She tied a scarf around it.

"That's a crappy knot," I told her. "Don't you know how to tie someone properly? Don't you remember what I did to you?"

She grinned. "I haven't forgotten." She rewrapped the silk, tying it properly, then started to tie it to the headboard.

"I want a wager," I told her.

She raised an eyebrow at me.

"If I can get away when you're done tying me, I get to draw a picture across your forehead."

"No!"

"If I can't get away, you can make me beg and beg before you untie me."

She smiled and retied the silk where I wouldn't be able to reach it. "Cheeky girl," she told me. In response, I gave her my other wrist. She tied that one off, lying across my body as she did so.

She pulled away and looked at me. I struggled with the bonds.

"Am I going to win?" Allison asked.

"Yes." I smiled at her. "Thank you."

She looked down at my legs. "I'm not done yet."

She took another scarf and tied it around my right ankle. Then she made me bend my leg as tightly as I could and looped the scarf around my upper thigh. She pressed the leg more tightly bent before tying off the scarf. When she was done, my leg was tied in a bent position. I could flop it around but not straighten it. She did the same thing with the other leg.

I pulled my knees together, closing my legs to her. She smiled. "Spread them," she said. "And keep them spread."

Slowly I lowered my knees to the side, opening myself to her. She smiled at me. "Good girl."

She had one more scarf. She leaned over and kissed each of my eyes before wrapping the scarf around my head, cutting off my vision. She adjusted the scarf, and I wasn't able to see.

"Are you okay?" she whispered into my ear.

"Take me!"

She lowered her lips to mine, her tongue demanding entrance. I opened for her and I felt her tongue invade and explore my mouth. I moaned and began to squirm.

She broke the kiss. "Do you belong to me?"

"Yes."

She lowered her lips to my breast and lightly bit my nipple. I felt it engorge under her attention.

"Do you like this?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Do you want me to continue?"

"Yes!"

"Then repeat after me. Allison would never hurt me."

"Allison would never hurt me," I echoed.

She latched her mount to my breast again, her tongue flicking against me, while her hand found my other breast and began teasing the nipple.

"Again," she said, nipping me.

"Allison would never hurt me."

"Again." Her hand moved to my crotch, hovering there. "Say it."

"Allison would never hurt me."

She laid her hand on my crotch, her fingers tapping at me. I thrust myself against her hand.

"Is this what you want?" she asked.

"Yes, Allison."

"We have a rule then. You must agree to this rule, or I'm stopping this right now."

"No!"

"You must agree. If I ever scare you, you will repeat your phrase. Allison would never hurt me. You must repeat it over and over until you calm down. Promise."

I didn't say anything.

"Promise! Now. Or this ends."

"Allison, please."

"What are you going to say?"

"Allison would never hurt me."

She tapped her fingers against my labia, directly over my clitoris. I squirmed.

"Promise, Sarah. Promise."

"Allison, if you ever scare me, I'll repeat the phrase over and over. I promise."

Her fingers immediately parted me, and I thrust my pelvis at her as she began to flick her fingers against my clitoris. She lowered her head next to mine.

"This feels good, doesn't it, Sarah?"

"Yes, Allison."

"I will never hurt you, Sarah."

"I know."

"Say it."

"Allison would never hurt me."

She slipped her fingers inside my vagina, and I jumped, forcing her fingers deeper.

"I am your safe place, Sarah. My arms are where you feel safest."

"Yes, Allison."

She slid her fingers in and out of me, slowly, deliberately. I began to pant rapidly.

"Not yet, Sarah," she said. "Don't come yet."

"Oh Allison, please!"

She slipped deeply inside me and pressed her fingers against me, rubbing against my G-spot.

"Say it," she said.

"Allison would never hurt me! Oh please, let me come!"

"Not yet, Love," she said. "Soon."

I was squirming madly under her touch.

She began whispering in my ear.

"You are mine, Sarah. You are safe here with me. You are mine. Mine. Mine."

"Yours!" I said. "Please, please let me come."

She flicked her fingers against me. "Promise you won't ever run again."

"I might run," I said. "But I'll always come back."

"Come now, Sarah! Be safe with me and come!"

"Oh Allison!"

My body began to spasm, my vagina clasping at her fingers. I screamed her name over and over as the shudders ran through my body. The entire time she whispered in my ear, "Mine, safe. You are mine, you are safe."

I collapsed against the bed, spent, the shudders growing further and further apart. Her fingers stilled then slipped out of me.

She lied down next to me, then reached over me and untied one leg, then the other. I collapsed my legs against the bed, and she threw one leg over me.

She caressed me slowly, letting my heart calm down, not saying anything. We lied there for five, maybe ten minutes, not speaking, my hands still tied.

I was scared, but I didn't want to run.

"Are you going to keep your promises to me?" she asked. "Do you remember them?"

"Allison would never hurt me. And if I run, I always come back."

She reached up and untied my hands.

I wrapped my arms around her.

* * *

A short while later, we dressed and moved to the living room. I was wearing a pair of her undies. We were both very quiet.

I lied down with my head in her lap. "I'm not your love slave," I told her.

She laughed. "Am I yours?"

"Sometimes," I told her. "Maybe I'll be yours sometimes, too."

She caressed me for a while.

"Allison, I need to tell you about the octopus. You mustn't say anything for a while." I closed my eyes. "Keep caressing me, but don't say anything."

I began talking. I explained about the eight personalities of Sarah. "It's not multiple personality disorder. They are all me. They are all Sarah. But they may as well be different people."

I told her about Competent Sarah, the only Sarah I liked. I told her about Predator Sarah, the Sarah who had made Allison into her love slave for a time. And I told her about Scared Sarah, the Sarah that was hardest to control, the one who made so many of my life decisions for me.

"I guess I like Predator Sarah a little, at least," I said. "You liked her, when she wasn't scaring you. But Scared Sarah is a pain in the ass, and she comes out at the slightest excuse."

"Compassionate Sarah is cool, too," I said. "But she tends to make very poor decisions. Very poor decisions." I paused. "If Compassionate Sarah is ever out, you mustn't let me make any important decisions."

Allison kept petting me quietly, stroking my face and arms.

"She's not the bad one, though," I said. "She makes me run, but she's not self-destructive. She's just an extreme case of fight or flight syndrome."

I told her about Angry Sarah. "Angry Sarah is actually harmless. I don't like her because she's ugly, and sometimes she makes bad decisions, but she's the easiest to calm down. You met her only for a few seconds. I'm glad it was Angry Sarah and not Vengeful Sarah."

Vengeful Sarah was bad. Vengeful Sarah was one of the two dangerous ones.

I told her about Possessive Sarah. "She was lurking around a lot in January," I said. "And she's harmless, except she can be excessively needy, and if she becomes disappointed, she goes running straight to Vengeful Sarah." I paused. "You need to understand, Possessive Sarah is going to claim you. If you ever hurt me, she's going to run to Vengeful Sarah." I paused. "Vengeful Sarah would try to hurt you back. That's one of the reasons I let Scared Sarah take control sometimes, because then I run instead of lash out."

"That's seven," she said when I grew quiet.

"The last is Self-Deprecating Sarah."

"Oh honey."

"She's the most dangerous." I paused. "Are there scars on my arms?"

I was wearing short sleeves. She examined both arms. "No," she said.

"Then the cuts healed properly."

"Oh honey!"

"I didn't try suicide!" I told her. "Just... cutting."

"Oh honey." She paused. "When was the last time."

"Before I met you? When I was twenty."

"Oh honey."

"Self-Deprecating Sarah and Scared Sarah were in complete control from the time I left your cabin until they found me a campsite in Arizona. When I called you, Competent Sarah had finally regained control. I had just finished cleaning up the cuts. I thought they might scar, but I guess they didn't. That was the last time."

"Why did you hurt yourself?"

"To keep Vengeful Sarah away from you."

We didn't say anything for a while.

"You're not my doctor," I said again.

"No."

"You're my friend. And my lover."

"Yes."

"And you'll never hurt me."

"Never."

I sighed. "Keep petting."

She continued to stroke me. I told her about the conversation with Mom.

"Honey, is your mother's name Madelin?"

"Yes."

"I know her. Well, know of her. I've heard her speak at conferences."

"That's the one."

I told her about my aunt.

"What happened to her when you told everyone?"

"The only one I ever told was Mom, and she called me a liar, an attention whore. Imagine, my mother, calling me an attention whore. She told me I was a terrible person to dare say such lies about her sister."

Allison kept stroking me.

"Dear Old Auntie is very sick now. Or was the last time I heard. She could be dead for all I know. There's nothing to be gained at this point. If she's dead, I won't greave, but I long ago stopped wishing the worst against her. It was just making me bitter."

"Why did you try calling your mother?" Allison asked.

"I thought perhaps it was time to try to mend the relationship."

"Will you let me meddle?"

I opened my eyes and looked up at her. "Define meddle."

"Call her. Find out of she's as callous towards you as it appeared."

I closed my eyes and thought about it. "You can try. She's a cold woman. She won't thank you."

"I'm going to get my phone," she said. She slithered out from under my head and returned in a moment with her phone. "What's the number?" she asked once I was lying on her lap again.

"This is a bad idea," I told her.

"Are you going to stop me?"

"No." I gave her the number. She dialed.

"Ringing," she said.

There was a pause. "Madeline Henson?" Pause. "My name is Allison Crawford. I heard you speak last year at the symposium." Pause. "Yes, that one." Pause. "No, actually. I'm a friend of your Sarah's." Pause. Pause. "No, she's fine. She's with me right now." Pause. "Yes, that kind of friend. Is that a problem for you?"

It had never occurred to me to wonder if my mother was a homophobe. I don't know why it didn't occur to me to wonder.

"Yes, I just want her to be happy, too." Pause. "Yes, she's really fine. She's had a difficult winter, but she seems to be doing better." Pause. "No, not Arizona. My cabin in Minnesota." Pause.

Allison looked at me, holding the phone against her chest. "She wants to talk to you."

"Not interested."

Allison paused, looking down at me, but I closed my eyes. "You stopped petting," I complained. She began stroking me again.

"Ms. Henson, I'm not sure she's ready to talk to you." Pause. "All right. Madeline." Pause. "I'll ask her."

"Your mother wants to know if she has your permission to speak frankly with me."

"Sure, why not?" I said, a touch of sarcasm creeping into my voice.

"I can tell her 'no', honey."

I opened my eyes and looked at her. I reached up and pulled her hand with the phone in it to my mouth. "Tell her whatever you want, Mom." I shoved the phone back at Allison.

She kept petting me, calming me down.

"Yes, Madeline. It's really Sarah." Pause. "Describe her? Wild, red hair." She held the phone to her chest again. "Does she know about the personalities?"

I nodded.

"Eight personality facets that she calls by individual names." Pause. "No, not like that. Competent Sarah, Scared Sarah..." Pause. "Yes." Pause. "Yes, I believe she came away from that conversation rather upset. I wasn't there with her." Pause, pause, pause. Long pause.

"I understand, Madeline. I think this is something she needs to hear from you, not me. Please hang on."

"I don't want to talk to her."

"Honey, I'm asking you to trust me," she said to me.

I opened my eyes again and looked up at her. She was holding the phone to her chest and wearing a concerned expression.

"Allison would never hurt me."

"That's right."

I took the phone from her and rolled over so I could hold it against an ear. "Hello, Mom."

"Sarah," she said. Still no emotion.

"Are you having a happy mother's day, Mom?"

"I wasn't, Sarah," she said. "I was looking at pictures of you and crying."

"What? You've never cried a day in your life."

"Please come home."

I held the phone away and looked at Allison. Her expression didn't hold any answers. I put the phone back to my ear. "I am home, right here with Allison."

"Your Aunt Jen died two years ago," Mom said.

I avoided saying anything catty but instead said, "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Yes, well. I hadn't talked to her in two years."

I let that slide. I didn't want to hear about Aunt Jen. "Why were you so cold to me when I called?"

"I was trying very hard not to cry."

"You are so full of it, Mom."

"Sarah, I wasn't a warm mother. But I never, not once in your entire life, have lied to you. Not once. I always told you the cold, sober truth, no matter how cruel or harsh it could be."

"No, it was my job to lie for both of us."

"You never lied to me," she said firmly. "Never. Do you understand me?"

"That's the crappiest apology I've ever heard," I told her.

"I'm just getting started," she said. "Sarah, please come home."

"Mom," I said. "I am home. Here's Allison."

I thrust the phone at her. She took it from me. "Hello, Madeline," she said. Pause. "No, not really, but she's healing." Pause, pause. "No, Madeline, that would be a phenomenally bad idea. Right now what she needs is a safe refuge, and I am providing that for her." Pause. "No, of course not. That wouldn't be ethical or wise." Pause. "I'll talk to her about it, but it will be her decision." Pause. "Yes, I understand." Pause. "I'll tell her. Good night, Madeline."

Allison hung up the phone.

"Am I home?"

"Yes, honey."

"Kiss me."

And so she did.

About the author:

Julia P. Lynde lives and works in the American mid-west.

Julia is older than most of the characters in her books. She has blue eyes and grey hair. She enjoys hiking in the mountains (difficult to do in the mid-west) and hosting dinner parties.

Julia can be reached via email as julia.p.lynde@gmail.com.

Julia's other works include:

Novels

Rewind:

Emerging from traumatic events of her past, Shane is left dealing with newfound self-revelations until she seeks help from an unexpected quarter.

Veronica is a stunning and powerful businesswoman who knows what she wants and lives for the seduction involved in getting it.

Complicated doesn't begin to describe the results.

Rewind features graphic sex between consenting women and some light BDSM.

Pulled to the Dark: The Siriena Series Volume 1:

Felicia Conner begins having recurring dreams of the woman who gave her a great new job. Night after night, Petra appears in her dreams. Petra begins to teach Felicia the wonders of the dream world she inhabits while Felicia begins to wonder how she can have such lifelike dreams night after night.

Petra welcomes Felicia to the world of Siriena, where the world may just very well be as it seems.

This complete novel of 95,000 words contains swords, magic, intriguing characters, an easy-to-hate villain and graphic sex scenes between Felicia and Petra.

Shorts

Bound in Arrogance

"You wouldn't last two hours of my attention," Penny told me, turning it into a wager. Foolishly, I rose to the bait.

Bound in Arrogance features Veronica and Penny several years prior to the events in Rewind. It features light BDSM.

Emily's Gift

Succubus Volume 1

Emily's daughter has taken a bad path, and Emily turned to the fae succubus, Anita, for her own brand of help.

This short story of 9400 words features intriguing characters and some steamy female on succubus sex.

No More Snow

Copyright 2012 by Julia P. Lynde

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

* * *

License Notes

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